Culture Shock
by The Magic Catgirl
Summary: When Hermione goes off the radar for four months, Ron can't just sit around wondering where she is. But when he follows her to America, he finds himself biting way more than he can chew! Can he and Hermione stop the Death Eaters from reviving? And more importantly, can Ron survive in the states without making a fool of himself? Might become T if violence gets too bad.


**I don't own Harry Potter. Don't get mad if I miss a few details. Also, see if you can spot the not-so-subtle reference in Hermione's note!**

CHAPTER 1

Four months. That had been the last time he had heard from Hermione. Four stupid months. Four months he had wasted, waiting for an owl, a letter, a scrap of parchment, anything with her name on it! The last time he had seen her was at her graduation ceremony in the Hogwarts Great Hall. It had been the 2 year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, and Hogwarts was already well on its way to rebuilding itself. She had told him that the Ministry of Magic had offered her a job helping out in the auror department. They had shared one last kiss outside of The Three Broomsticks, and then she had disapparated to London.

Now, four months later, here was Ron, staring up at his bedroom ceiling, wondering what the heck had happened to her. He had tried getting information out of his dad, but Arthur Weasley hadn't had a clue. When he had checked the employment records for Ron, they had only said Hermione was in a "Classified Location".

His mum had simply told him to wait a little longer. Well, Ronald Bilius Weasley was done waiting. He had a plan that he was sure would root out his lost love. Still, he couldn't shake the nagging voice at the back of his mind. _What if she doesn't want to be found?_ _No._ Ron thought, shaking his head. _If something was wrong, she would have told me._

Still, there were so many things that could go wrong. When he had explained his idea, there had been various levels of encouragement. His parents had supported it, Ginny and Harry had agreed to back him up if Hermione attempted bloody murder upon her return, and George had simply snorted into his ham and egg tart and collapsed on the ground laughing. Ron was starting to think George had had the right idea.

Standing in the fireplace, Harry told him, "Bring our girl back, eh Ron?" Ron nodded and tossed Floo Powder in, electric green flames crackling up around him. "Diagon Alley!" he shouted, and the roar of the Floo Network drowned out all other noise. The world turned a shade of blinding green, and fireplace after fireplace raced by. Finally, Ron was deposited inside The Leaky Cauldron in a not so graceful fashion. He accidentally rolled into an occupied table and knocked over the elderly witch sitting there. Racing towards Diagon Alley before she could hex him, he began to think through what he would say.

Upon arriving on the magnificent street, Ron immediately began scanning the horizon for his destination. There! A forest green radio tower that stuck up above even Gringotts. Ron hastily skirted around the marble building, as goblins were very mistrusting creatures, even if you had only broken into the bank to save the world.

The radio tower was the newest addition to Diagon Alley, and it was rather impressive. At first glance, you only saw a large, squat brown building, much like any other store in Diagon Alley. When you looked up though, you saw the 60-foot tall radio tower that broadcasted to wizards all over the world. Ron had five minutes of air time to send a message to Hermione.

Brushing any remaining soot off his cloak, he stepped inside the warm, beige lobby. Some brown leather chairs were in the corner by a table covered with back issues of _Witch Weekly_ and _Transfiguration Today._ A polished mahogany desk sat at the other end of the room, a stern looking witch sitting behind it, guarding the door that led to the radio booths.

Ron strolled forward to the desk and lightly coughed to let the witch know he was there. She looked up, startled. She was in either her late twenties or early thirties, with short, black hair that went just past her ears and a small, fairylike face. She wore fuschia-rimmed glasses with matching earrings and a turquoise pencil skirt and jacket over a white blouse. "Are you going on air?" she asked, scrutinizing Ron with beady black eyes that seemed to clash with her soft features.

"Actually, yes." Ron said. "Ron Weasley. I have a five minute slot in half an hour." The witch looked down at her clipboard and nodded. "Ah, yes. You're in booth 4T. Right this way." Stepping aside, she let him through the chrome door and followed him through the dimly lit hallway. As they passed by rooms, Ron saw a multitude of witches and wizards running various shows inside brightly lit booths. "Here we are. Booth 4T!" the witch chirped as they appoached a deep purple room. "If you need any help, just page me at the front desk. Name's Tamara, by the way." Ron opened the door and stepped inside, suddenly more nervous than all the times he, Harry, and Hermione had gone on one of their mad ventures. Taking, a deep breath, he hit the "On Air" button and began transmitting his message.

Eight days later, just as Ron had given up hope, an exhausted looking Spotted Owl slammed into his bedroom window. "Geez, you must be Errol's long lost cousin." Ron remarked as he unrolled the small piece of parchment attached to its leg. His heart gave a leap as he recognized Hermione's handwriting. Then it sank as it read her words.

_Ron, you have no idea what you're getting into! If you absolutely must know, apparate to this location the night after you get this. Bring Owlowicious with you, I don't want to lose her. _

Assuming Owlowicious was the Spotted Owl, Ron hurridly began throwing a suitcase together. Then he saw the address Hermione had written.

_Golden Gate Bridge, San Francisco, California, United States of America._


End file.
